


Fly By

by AceLee



Series: Will someone please look after my sunshine boy [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bullies, Bullying, Friendship, Gen, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Team, Protectiveness, Team as Family, and 1 time he didnt have to, kind of like, x times hinata thought he could handle it himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLee/pseuds/AceLee
Summary: Hinata's first year started off great. He's on the Volleyball team at Karasuno High School, the same school as his hero, the Little Giant. Sure some things could be better. He could be taller, have better grades or stop running into these bigger and scarier second-years, but he was still getting tosses so he wasn't complaining. Maybe he should though...(Or times someone found Hinata dealing with bullies and 1 time Karasuno looked after their own)
Relationships: Azumane Asahi & Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Hinata Shouyou & Tsukishima Kei, Hinata Shouyou & Ukai Keishin
Series: Will someone please look after my sunshine boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762675
Comments: 131
Kudos: 750
Collections: The Reasons For My Insomnia





	1. Asahi

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to the haikyuu gen discord server, bnha discord server, and all commentators on my earlier works! You guys really inspired me to improve and keep writing. Find me on tumblr at reynnabeth.
> 
> This fic starts off in Season 1, before the Nekoma Practice Match, but after Asahi and Nishinoya rejoined!

Hinata was sure he was cursed with bad bathroom luck. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hanging from the hook on the bathroom stall door by the back of his school jacket. It wasn’t very high up. His school bag and right shoe – which had fallen off in one of his earlier attempts to wiggle off the hook – were less than a meter below him on the tiled floor.

Hinata hung limply, looking down at his sock. He could see his phone among his school stuff which had fallen out of his bag. The blank screen tauntingly reflected the late afternoon sunlight filtering in the empty bathroom. Stupid, if only he had thought to keep his phone in his pants, he could’ve called someone to get him down by now. Instead, he was stuck here and, if he didn’t get down soon, he was going to be late for afternoon volleyball practice.

Hinata was really looking forward to practice today too! He and Kageyama were supposed to work on their quick for the upcoming practice match with Nekoma High School that Takeda-sensei had managed to arrange, pretty miraculously according to the upperclassmen. Apparently, no schools had wanted to play a practice match with Karasuno in a while. But it didn’t matter if other schools thought Karasuno wasn’t worth playing against because eventually, Hinata was going to crush all of them!

But if he was late, Hinata shuddered, Kageyama was going to crush him first. Hinata would almost rather face the three second-year boys that had cornered him rather than an angry Kageyama. 

Sure, the second-years had sharp elbows and hard knuckles, his aching side was proof of this, but Kageyama could aim jump serves at his head and, while his reflexes were one of the quickest on the team (besides Noya-san of course), Hinata knew he would not be able to avoid every single one.

With renewed determination, Hinata wiggled like a fish on a hook, grunting with frustration. But despite his flailing limbs, the jacket refused to give and the stall door just swayed back and forth with a creak.

“Gah!” Hinata slumped in his jacket, which pulled painfully on his shoulders against the full weight of his body. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found the jacket all stretched out tonight. 

Hinata let his head fall back against the door, staring up at the white ceiling in defeat. If he were taller, like Tsukishima or Asahi-San, Hinata knew all his problems would be solved in an instant. Not only would he be the best volley player in all of Japan, but he’d probably be able to scare off the second years and get himself off the hook all by himself. But all he could do now was wait and hope that someone would come in and get him down.

“Helloooo,” Hinata called out, “Hello? Help, I’m stuck!”

As expected, there was no response. It was quiet except for the steady drip of a faucet. Hinata guessed by now most of his classmates would be on their way home or just arriving at their after-school club. He sighed. He’d probably be here a while.

“Stuck in the restroom. Stuck in the restroom. I’m stuck in the re-estroom,” Hinata sang, swinging his legs in the air, the heels of his feet bouncing off the door with a hard thud followed by the softer thud of his socked foot. “Stuck in the restroom. Stuck in the restroom. I’m stu-“

“Hinata?”

If he could, Hinata would’ve jumped. He whipped his head as far as he could, but the stall door prevented him from seeing who had come in. It didn’t matter though, because Hinata knew that voice.

“Asahi-san!” Hinata waved his arms wildly, hoping the third year would see him over the stall door.

He felt the door swing open and found himself eye to eye with Karasuno’s Ace for the first time ever. His face...was a little strange though. Asahi-san’s eyebrows were squished together, and he blinked slowly like he didn’t really know what he was looking at.

“Asahi-san,” Hinata said again, a slow smile spreading across his face, “I thought I was going to be stuck here forever!” His voice seemed to snap the third year back into focus.

“Oh, uh-“ Hinata felt him reach around and grab the back of his jacket with both hands. Asahi lifted him up effortlessly, like a sack of rice at the supermarket, and Hinata’s feet gently landed on the ground. Hinata rolled his shoulders in relief, the muscles popping and pulling. He was definitely going to feel that during practice.

“Hinata, how did you get up there?” Asahi asked, sounding hesitant like he usually did outside the court. For a scary looking guy, the third year was surprisingly timid. Hinata had seen people hurry to part in the hallways when Asahi-san walked by, but one time he had heard the captain call Asahi a wimp and the Ace had just sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

Hinata quickly shoved his foot back into his shoe. “There’re these boys, right – I think they’re second-years – and they’re like _this_ tall and usually they only throw my bag up-“

“Usually?”

Hinata nodded, tying his shoelace into a tight bow, “Yeah, but last time I jumped this high,” and he leapt up to show Asahi, his stiff legs bending into the familiar launch. Hinata landed with a grin, jabbing his thumb into his chest, “and I grabbed it right out of their hands!”

Turning, Hinata caught his reflection in the mirror in the corner of his eye and winced. His hair was a mess from the fight. Well, it wasn’t much of a fight, more like a struggle. He had bumped into the three second-years right outside the bathroom despite his best efforts to avoid them all week. They’d grabbed him and pulled him in. Of course, Hinata did try to squirm out of their grip, and he’d been successful too thanks to his small frame. He had even almost made it out the door too but these boys were big, not as big as Asahi, but _big_ and fast. Hinata thought he’d seen them around the baseball team. The tallest one with black spikey hair, had snagged the back of his jacket and slammed him right back into the other two, a stocky boy with muscles bigger than Hinata’s head and another tall boy with shaggy hair and a nasty smile.

The next moments were a blur. There were hands clenched in his jacket and fingers twisted in his hair, pulling painfully. Hinata remembered them shoving him against the stall door and then he was dangling, listening to the boys laugh and thump each other on the back, leaving with a _try jumping out of this one pipsqueak._

Hinata grumbled, musing his hair back into its normal puffed-up look. _He’d show them pipsqueak. Just wait until he hit his growth spurt._

“Are the second-years bullying you, Hinata? Should we tell your teacher?” Asahi sounded worried.

“What? No! I mean– “ Hinata paused. Were they bullying him? “They call me short and stuff, I guess, but everyone does it, so it really doesn’t bother me a-and they just push me around a bit sometimes, but it’s fine!”

Was it fine? Sure, they were big and scary, but almost everyone older than him was bigger and scarier. And Hinata’s been called short and shrimp-y and tiny since middle school and it wasn’t like they were beating him up in a dark alley or robbing him or anything. Besides, if Tsukishima found out, Hinata would probably never hear the end of it. _How lame. Not so tough off the court are you, shrimpy._ Hinata made a face and stuck his tongue out in the mirror at imaginary Tsukishima. So yes, he was fine.

Hinata turned around. Asahi’s brows were still pulled in and he was biting his lip as if he wanted to argue, “If you’re sure.”

Hinata nodded decisively, reaching out and grabbing Asahi’s sleeve, “Come on! We’re gonna be late for practice.” He pulled the older boy out the door. “I was in class today, but all I thought about was spiking like _waboosh_ , and if Kageyama-kun set like _hwuff_ it would be more like _wabam,_ y’know? But I’ve seen you hit like _kablam_!”

Asahi laughed lightly, falling into step beside him, “Is that even Japanese?”

“And Noya-san said he was going to teach me _rolling thunder_ ,” Hinata continued, miming out the movement with his hands as he described them. “There’s no way we can lose if we–“

Asahi seemed to realize two steps later that Hinata had stopped. He looked down at him questioningly, but Hinata was staring down the hallway. He saw Asahi follow his gaze. Slouching by the exit doors were the second-year boys. Untucked shirts, school jackets hung carelessly over their shoulder, hands tucked in pockets, they looked like real thugs.

Hinata gulped, shrinking besides Asahi, putting the taller boy between him and them. Despite what he said earlier, he wasn’t quite ready for a rematch. Hinata fought the urge to turn around and run in the opposite direction.

Asahi's eyes turned serious. He didn’t get riled up like Tanaka-san did whenever anyone looked at Shimizu-senpai, but he set his jaw and straightened up, hiding Hinata further. He looked as intimidating as he did whenever he walked on to court, which was to say, very intimidating, and he had that same hard look on his face that made other teams fumble points before they’d even play. In other words, he looked like an ace.

Hinata peeked around Asahi as they walked past. Spiky hair, the leader, Hinata assumed (he’d always been the one to point out Hinata to the other boys), leaned over and _sneered_ and Hinata flinched, stumbling over his feet.

He felt a warm reassuring hand on his back. He looked up at Asahi, but the ace was looking straight ahead. Hinata walked stiffly beside him, his knees locking with each step. Neither of them said a word as they passed through the doors without incident. Hinata guessed the second-years wouldn’t dare do anything with the third year there.

Reaching the bottom of the steps leading up to the club room, Asahi let out a huge breath, hand pressed against his heart, “That was scary.”

“But you were scarier!” Hinata laughed, equally relieved.

Asahi winced slightly. Hinata belatedly remembered that the third year was a little sensitive about how intimidating strangers found him. If people were always afraid to talk to him, Hinata figured it would also be a sore spot for him too.

“Not that you’re scary!” Hinata said, frantically waving his hands.

“Ah–it’s okay,” The older boy smiled sheepishly, “Why don’t you head up first to change. I think I left my shirt in the gym after morning practice.”

Hinata nodded and darted up the stairs. The sooner he changed, the sooner he’d play volleyball.

The familiar smell of cardboard and sweat welcomed Hinata as he burst into the dark room, throwing down his bag. Not even bothering to flip the light switch on, he quickly slipped off his shoes and struggled into his gym clothes. The black ‘Karasuno High School’ on his left chest was slightly wrinkled from being crumpled at the bottom of his bag.

Hinata shoved his school clothes into his gym bag (the jacket was _definitely_ stretched and his mom was not going to be happy buying him a new one so early in his first school year) and lifted it up to put on the shelf. He paused. _That’s strange,_ he thought.

Laying on top of Asahi’s gym bag was the neatly folded gym shirt. Hinata shrugged. Maybe one of the other boys had brought it up for him. He’d just let the older boy know when he gets down to the gym.

Practically flying out the room, Hinata jumped over the last few stairs, feeling the air rush past his face. Dust scattered in the late afternoon heat as he landed.

“Good afternoon,” Hinata greeted, throwing the gym doors wide open.

“Good afternoon!”

“‘Noon!”

It didn’t look like he was late yet. Most of the members were doing stretches or warm up exercises in the corner of the room. The sound of a volleyball bouncing off the wall echoed from where Kageyama was setting to himself. Tanaka-san and Noya-san were jumping over each other trying to impress Shimizu-senpai who was pointedly looking down at her clipboard.

On the far wall, Daichi-san and Sugawara-san seemed to be listening intently to Asahi, still in his school uniform with his back facing Hinata. The captain’s arms were crossed and there was a tightness in his expression. Sugawara-san’s eyes widened in response to something Asahi was saying.

“Ah, Asahi-san,” Hinata called across the gym, “I saw your shirt in the club room. I think someone took it up already.”

He saw the third-year jerk at the sound of his voice. The other two third-years turned to him. “M-my shirt? Oh, right, thank you.”

Hinata nodded, fidgeting under the weird gaze of the three third-years. They didn’t say anything though, so he turned away, the sound of a volleyball catching his attention.

“Oi, Kageyama! Toss!”

“Stretch first, moron!”


	2. Ukai & Yachi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the time before Hinata visted Shiratorizawa, but after Yachi joins the team, Hinata finds himself once again, in a less than ideal situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to EuphoricBunny, ThatsCrazy, hannelloni, mistiiestars, SixofHoes, LouTheStarSpeaker, and mikhaiilo for commenting! It really encouraged me to finish this chapter.

Volleyball was about the jump and then the fall. If it was up to Hinata, it would only be the jump, the thrill of flying and seeing the world at the top. But as familiar as Hinata was with flying, he also knew how to fall. He knew the disappointing fall after a missed spike, the devastating fall after a failed block, the nerve wracking fall to dive after a ball before it hit the ground. That didn’t really prepare him for the tumble off his bike as his back hit the pavement, rough gravel pressing into his palms. Hinata really didn’t like falling.

He looked up, resisting the urge to let his chin tremble.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding us.” 

His tongue was lead in his mouth. Hinata didn’t think he could have responded even if he tried. The truth was he had been trying to avoid the three second-year boys. After Asahi-san had found him, Hinata had done his best to avoid empty restrooms, sticking to crowded hallways and eating his lunch in the classroom. He was constantly looking over his shoulder, like a spooked deer — not that he was scared of them or anything. He’d even gone as far as making sure he was always walking with one of the other club members down to the gym, though he did get weird looks from Ennoshita-san and Tsukishima flat out ignored him. That jerk. Though, that didn’t stop the second-year boys from shouldering him in the halls and it didn’t stop them from pulling him off his bike after school. Said bike laid on its side a meter away, front wheel still spinning.

The leader brought back his foot like he was aiming a kick for Hinata’s face. Hinata flinched, bringing up his arms, but there was no impact. He slowly peeked over his hands, afraid that any movement would set off the upperclassmen.

“Good one, Sugi!” The boy with shaggy hair snickered. Hinata hadn’t found out his name yet, but the nameless second-year was obviously not the brains or the brawn of the group. Hinata would have sympathized if he didn’t feel like he was about to get beat up.

“Shut up.”

Hinata’s heart was racing. What did they want with him? Were they going to rob him? “I-I don’t have any m-money,” Hinata stammered. 

“We’re not looking for money,” Sugi scoffed.

The beefier boy, Teshima, Hinata remembered, leaned over, the setting sun behind him casting a long shadow over Hinata that seemed to go on for miles. “We’re just looking for a little fun.”

Oh, Hinata was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die at the tender age of 16 and he was never going to get to nationals because he was going to be dead. Well, at least when they eventually found his body, Hinata could only hope that cranky Kageyama — Cranky-yama — would regret calling him stupid earlier today and think maybe I should’ve been nicer to Hinata during practice.

“H-hey!”

“Hah? Another first year? Get lost.”

Hinata stole a glance to the side and standing on the corner of the street was Yachi-san. Her face was white and she was shaking, hands tightly clenched around the strap of her school bag, but she didn’t move. Hinata wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or because she didn’t want to leave him alone.

Hinata should’ve been relieved that someone had come to help him, but this was Yachi-san. Yachi who cried when she thought she had offended someone, who had been scared of half the volleyball team, who hadn’t even been sure if she wanted to be the team manager or not because she felt like no one believed in her. Sure, in the past few weeks, Hinata had seen her slowly grow out of her shell. She no longer fell into a bow when she made a mistake and just yesterday, Hinata had seen her high five Tanaka-san after a good spike. He had even been there when she ran after her mom, yelling Town Person B can fight too!

But now was definitely not the time to be the Town Person B that fights. Now was the time to be the Town Person B that ran far far away.

Hinata mustered the courage to yell out to her, “Yachi-san, get out of here!”

“You got something to say, first-year?” Sugi took a menacing step towards Yachi-san. She made a strangled noise as she stepped back, rapidly glancing around, but the street was empty. Hinata sucked in a breath.

“Leave her alone!” He jumped forward, grabbing Sugi around the waist.

The older boy stumbled forward from the sudden weight. Luckily for Hinata, his attention immediately dropped away from Yachi-san. Unluckily for Hinata, he had turned his full attention to Hinata instead. Hinata gulped.

Sugi grabbed Hinata by the back of his shirt and threw him off. Hinata went flying, landing on his hands and feet. He really wished he wasn’t so easy to throw around. In the corner of his eye, he saw Yachi run off, realizing a little too late that it would have been smarter to just grab Yachi and run too. 

“Oh you think you’re so tough?” Sugi said, spitting. He sounded angry now like a bull and Hinata had just pulled his horns. “C’mon then! Fight me.”

There’s nowhere for him to run now. The other two second-years stood behind him like a wall. Hinata sucked his cheeks in. He was sure he was shaking harder than Yachi was.

He puts his hands into fists like he's seen in TV shows. He’s never punched anyone before, but it can’t be any different than spiking a ball. Squeezing his eyes closed, Hinata threw himself forward and swung, imagining a toss coming up over a net, and hit...nothing. He opened his eyes to see his fist move through open air, Sugi grinning to his right. Quicker than a snake- how was he so fast-, he reached out, catching Hinata’s arm. Hinata cried out as his arm was wrenched behind his back.

“So the shrimp does have a bite.” He heard in his right ear. The hold on his arms were tight and squeezing; Hinata was sure his arms were going to fall off.

Sweat dripped at the base of Hinata’s neck and it was not from the early summer heat. In front of him, Teshima, chuckled meanly, blowing on his knuckles as he stepped forward. Oh this was going to hurt, Hinata thought as he saw him bring his arm back in slow motion. The bigger boy drove it into his stomach. Hinata groaned, curling into himself as the boys laughed in approval. If this was what volleyballs felt like then, he’d have to apologize to every single ball he’s ever hit if he ever got out of this.

Teshima smirked, pulling his fist back again. Hinata flinched, but with an iron grip on his arms, there was nowhere for him to run.

There was a growing, almost comedic, slapping noise of someone running in flip flops that made everyone pause. “Oy, punks! Get out of here before I call your parents.”

Hinata, though he would deny it later if anyone asked, almost started crying when he saw Coach Ukai coming down the road. He was in his work apron, yellow hair pulled back by a black hairband, shaking a feather duster above his head. His wide stance reminded Hinata of an angry crab and hovering behind him was Yachi. Hinata quietly exhaled. His relief overwhelmed the small part of him that was embarrassed at being found almost turned into minced meat.

One of the boys cursed, Hinata wasn’t sure who. The grip on his wrist and arm let go with a shove and Hinata barely had time to catch himself to avoid face planting on the hard asphalt. When he looked up, they were running, shoes kicking up gravel and dust. Coach Ukai was in front of him, yelling after the boys as he waved his duster angrily.

Not so tough now, huh? Hinata stuck his tongue out and blew a rude noise at the retreating group.

“Hinata, are you alright?” There were small light hands on his shoulders.

Hinata brushed off the gravel on his clothes. He had scrapes on his palms and knees where his shorts didn’t quite cover, some still bleeding sluggishly. His stomach was aching dully. Hinata lifted up the front of his shirt to see the beginnings of a really nasty bruise.

Yachi threw her hands over her mouth, gasping. He dropped his shirt.

“I’m fine!” He hurriedly assured Yachi before she could freak out.

Schalp. Shlap. Schlap. “Alright, Hinata?” Coach Ukai asked, crouching down beside him. Hinata could smell the familiar cigarette smoke that always clung to his hair and clothes.

“I’m fine,” Hinata repeated. He pushed himself up.

Coach Ukai sighed, looking Hinata up and down. “Let’s go back to my shop for band aids then before you head home.”

He stood up, feather duster slung over his shoulder, and started walking up the street to where the Sakanoshita Store was, not looking back at the two first years. Hinata remembered Yamaguchi telling him that the small shop tucked into the quiet corner of the street was the coach’s own family store. It had quickly become the favorite after-practice place to go to with the volleyball club members once they learned that Coach Ukai would give them free popsicles if he was in a good mood.

Hinata scrambled to pick up his bike. Thankfully nothing was broken from the fall. It would have been the worst to carry a broken bike across the mountain. He walked it between him and Yachi who looked only slightly freaked out now which Hinata could understand.

“You must have been scared,” Yachi-san said, shivering. “They were like twenty times taller than you.”

Hinata nodded furiously. “Did you see the big guy? Can you believe he’s a second-year?”

“He looked like he could pick up a truck! And crush me with it! A-and then when the spiky hair guy was coming I thought I was going to die for sure!”

“I thought I was going to die too!”

They talked animatedly about their mutual near death experience as they walked behind Coach Ukai. Hinata learned that Yachi had stumbled into the group, completely by accident, but hadn’t wanted to leave Hinata alone with them despite being so afraid of them that she couldn’t even feel her face (Hinata was glad he wasn’t the only one that found them scary). She had realized, just like him, that with her size she wouldn’t be able to do anything so when Hinata had distracted Sugi, she had ran all the way to Coach Ukai’s store and found him sitting behind the counter, reading a newspaper. He had nearly fallen off his stool- “I did not. I was just stretching,” he grumbled - when she had burst in, stuttering something about Hinata getting murdered in a yakuza gang fight. Hinata had laughed at that. If only it was that cool.

“Wait here,” Coach Ukai said when they reached the front of the store. The automatic door opened with a whoosh, the electronic sensor chiming as the man stepped inside. Hinata caught a whiff of the yakitori that was always warming up in the heating display. His mouth watered just thinking about the grilled chicken skewers.

The doors whooshed open again. Coach Ukai came out with a water bottle and a small blue-green box with a picture of a bandage wrapped dramatically around a cartoon finger. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Hinata said, dipping his head politely. He sat down on the curb to open the box. Yachi poured water on the cuts and scrapes for him while he clumsily stuck on the band aids. It was harder than it looked, the sticky part kept clinging to his fingers.

Coach Ukai flipped out his phone and started punching in a number, “What are those boys’ names? I have to report this to your school. They’re Karasuno, right?”

“Eh?” Report to the school? “No, it’s fine!” Hinata would probably get in trouble too if the coach reported it. Technically, he had thrown the first punch and with the Miyagi Preliminaries so close, he did not want to risk detention. Hinata couldn’t afford to miss even one practice, not if he was going to beat every school in Japan.

“Are you sure, Hinata?” Yachi asked, frowning before straightening up suddenly. “I mean! I don’t mean to impose! I’m just saying- I mean- sorry!”

Impose — to force something unwelcome or unfamiliar to be accepted or put in place. Hinata remembered. Yachi had taught him this yesterday.

“It’s okay,” Hinata said, “I started it anyway.”

Coach Ukai gave him a strange look. It was the same strange look that Asahi-san had when he had swung the door open to find Hinata dangling. It was the same strange look that the other two third years had given him when he walked by during practice the same day. It was the same strange look Yamaguchi gave him when the second-year boys had slapped his school books out of his hands once when they passed by in the hall.

Hinata fidgeted. He really wished he knew what it meant.

Coach Ukai finally looked away, sighing. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it in his mouth. “You two can grab a popsicle before you head home.”

“Really?” Yachi and Hinata both looked at each other excitedly. They ran in, grinning. The ice cream freezer was humming in the back. Hinata grabbed his usual popsicle, the mango one. Yachi picked up the pink strawberry popsicle.

They both bowed to Coach Ukai on their way out, “Thank you, sir!”

He waved them off. “Get home safe,” he called over the buzzing of the evening cicadas. “Don’t go looking for anymore trouble.”

Hinata laughed as he turned to walk Yachi to her bus stop, popsicles dripping in their hands. He didn’t look for trouble, trouble looked for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking through the story! I'm still a learning writer so please feel free to give me some advice or tell me that the story feels weird ToT. This chapter took me a few days to post, because it wasn't peer reviewed and I kept second guessing myself, but someone once told me that failing multiple times and learning is better than never trying and never getting better. Thanks again for giving me a read!


	3. Kageyama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama couldn't help but notice that there's something off about Hinata.

His older sister always said that not all decisions should be made in an instant and Kageyama would usually disagree— in volleyball, an instant was what decided the point after all— but _this_ was always a special case. This was a decision that took patience, focus. This was the most important decision of his day.

The vending machine beeped.

Kageyama’s middle and pointer finger hovered over the two choices, the milkbox in slot 1A and the seemingly identical milkbox in 1B. He pressed his lips together in a slight grimace. 

1A? 

No, 1B? 

Kageyama twitched. He had never been the indecisive type— he couldn’t be, not as a setter— and he definitely couldn’t afford to start now. But, which milk?

Kageyama finally closed his eyes and moved both fingers, letting his gut decide which would hit first. His gut had rarely ever let him down.

The machine rumbled as the drink landed in the tray and beeped one last time as Kageyama slid the blue carton out. He stabbed the straw in and took a big gulp, humming appreciatively as he tilted the milk box up to see the little cartoon cow on the front. 

This was, of course, the best drink in the vending machine no matter what the others said. Hinata especially liked to grip and groan about Kageyama’s lack of interest in anything else, but Kagayama had always thought that if you already have something that’s good, there’s no point in changing it. 

Little did he know that he would eat his words in a few weeks when a certain middle blocker decides, against all odds, that the Fukurodani Training camp is the time to force their freak quick attack to evolve into something even more dangerous.

For now though, he obliviously drained the last of the milk, straw sputtering.

“KA GE YA MAAAA!”

He choked and spun around to see Hinata standing at the school’s back entrance, hands cupped around his mouth. The ten other students in the back courtyard had also turned to stare at the orange idiot in surprise. 

Next to Hinata, Yachi who looked extremely flustered at the sudden attention, bowing quickly at the students. She looked like one of the seesaw bird toys at the store that bopped up and down endlessly.

Hinata himself wasn’t looking at any of them. He was looking directly at Kageyama with an annoying smirk on his face. He nodded once and then darted to the right, black school bag flapping behind him.

Kageyama growled, crushing his milk box in one hand. _That cheater!_ He jumped forward, running in the same direction as Hinata, towards the club room, ignoring the startled “Hey!” from students as he rushed past them. _Like hell he was going to let Hinata win again._

Distantly he heard Sawamura-san yell, “You two! Stop running!” but he brushed it off; the short rectangle building was coming into view and he was catching up to Hinata. Kageyama grinned. He could smell victory and by the quick glance Hinata gave him over his shoulder, he knew it too.

With a yell, Kageyama pushed forward and sprinted the last few meters to the base of the stairs. Dust flew in giant clouds behind him as he slammed his hand down on the railing, panting. 

The gravel crunched behind him as Hinata skidded to a stop. Kageyama had won. He turned, grinning like a shark.

“You got a head start and I _still_ won,” Kagayama said smugly, but he paused as he took in the boy in front of him.

Hinata was bent over, arms wrapped around his stomach as he gasped for breath. The sight wouldn’t have given Kagayama a weird feeling in his gut if it had been anyone else, but Kageyama knew that the short run shouldn’t have been a problem for Hinata. Heck, they had raced up the mountain once and Hinata hadn’t looked like a strong wind could push him over.

“Shut up, Jerky-yama,” Hinata managed through his gasps, somehow still sounding challenging as he finally pushed himself upright. Kageyama immediately no longer felt bad for him. The setter spun around and started walking up the stairs.

“What’s that now, 25-23? Doesn’t this mean you owe me a pork bun?”

“You wish! It’s _24_ -23 you still have one more to go and I’m not losing next time.” He heard Hinata say. Kageyama was _pretty_ sure it was 25-23. 

The stairs clanked as Hinata walked up the stairs behind him, probably taking two steps at a time like he always did. Kageyama turned around to argue, but he stopped mid-step when he noticed that Hinata still had one arm wrapped tightly around his stomach and his face was twisted in a wince with each big step.

“Well, I’m definitely not losing either,” Kageyama huffed instead.

Hinata stuck his tongue out at him. Kageyama narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue right back out. It only made the other boy scrunch up his face and blow a rude noise. Well, two could play this game.

Kageyama leaned over so that he towered over the shorter boy and blew a rude noise right back down. 

“Are you two children?” Tsukishima walked out onto the walkway from the club room, already in his gym uniform. Behind him, Yamaguchi hid his laugh behind his hand.

Both Kageyama and Hinata turned to scowl at the tall first-year, their common enemy since day one. Tsukishima got on Kageyama’s nerves like nothing else. It didn’t help that he had made Kageyama practically _beg_ for his help for the upcoming exams and not only that, he spent the whole time calling Kagayama and Hinata idiots.

The only thing stopping Kageyama from getting into a whole fist fight with Tsukishima was Yamaguchi, Kageyama’s need to outlearn Hinata, and the fact that if he doesn’t pass his exams he won’t be able to go to the Fukurodani Training camp in Tokyo. And if he doesn’t get to go to the training camp, he won’t get the chance to actually talk to the Nekoma setter and finally ask him questions like how does he train, how does he deal with a mental block, and how does he _get on so well with his teammates_? 

Kageyama knows he has skills— he’d train under Oikawa-san after all— but the one thing he didn’t know was how to earn his teammates’ trust and maybe even get them to _like_ him like how other teams liked their setters. Like how Nekoma trusted and liked their setter despite his reserved nature. Like how his old teammates trusted and liked Oikawa-san enough to follow him to Aoba Johsai.

Tsukishima coughed pointedly into his hand, “Are you going to get changed or are you going to stare at me like brainless monkeys.”

Kageyama flexed his fingers. Some people were _very_ hard to get along with though. He didn’t exactly shove past Tsukishima to get into the room (that would be childish of course and also not very teammate-like), but it was close.

“Stupid Tsukishima,” Hinata grumbled behind him, “Stupid-shima.”

Kageyama quietly agreed as he threw down his bag to get changed. The room was empty, most of the others had probably changed already. 

Maybe that’s why he noticed that Hinata had chosen to crouch, facing the corner, to change. Which isn’t weird. It’s not. Except that Hinata wasn’t ever this shy about changing. He’d change in the gym if he could so that he could get to playing faster. He’d sometimes even wave his shirt above his head with Tanaka-san as the two of them crowed about something dumb until Ennoshita-san yelled at them to put their clothes on.

Kageyama shook his head as he pulled his shorts on. He needed to stop over analyzing things. His gut was unusually sensitive today. Kageyama blamed the stress of the upcoming exams. Or at least he did until Hinata stood up.

“Ready for me to beat your butt to the gym?”

Kageyama blinked. “Did you fall or something?” It certainly looked like the shorter boy got in a very big fight with the ground and lost. Now that Hinata was no longer covered up by the long sleeves of the school jacket and the uniform pants, Kageyama could see multiple band aids on his knees and elbows. Kageyama’s eyes unconsciously darted between the ones on his palms and up and down the side of his forearms too, taking in every detail. There were angry red scrapes and bruises that looked no more than a day old, all red and faded purple, peaking out in between. They certainly weren’t there during practice yesterday

“Ah— these?” Hinata said, scratching the side of his head. If Kageyama didn’t know any better, he’d say that the short middle blocker sounded nervous. “I fell off my bike on the way home yesterday.”

That sounded logical. Kageyama knew that Hinata had to bike across the mountain to get back to his house and the road wasn’t all that easy. But for some reason, Kageyama found it hard to believe the other boy, call it— what was that word Stupid-shima taught him earlier?— intuition, or whatever. He opened his mouth to ask, but Hinata suddenly bolted out the door.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

_That little—_ Kageyama raced after him. “Hey, no cheating!”

He heard an answering laugh, but judging by the dust rising in the air, there was no sign of him slowing down.

Kageyama won, of course. He only felt a little bad because technically Hinata was injured. But then again, the walking tangerine had tried to cheat.

“Pork. Bun.” Kageyama said breathlessly, hands behind his head.

Hinata just scowled at him. He was also trying to catch his breath, but his hands were wrapped around his stomach again.

“Hinata, what happened to you?” It was Sugawara-san. The older setter was looking at Hinata’s band aides.

“You look tough, Shoyo! Did you get into a fight?” Nishinoya-san said from where he was stretching along the wall with the other second-years. Out of the corner of his eye, Kageyama saw Sugawara-san frown and bit his lip at the libero’s comment like he was worried about something.

Hinata shook his head quickly. “N-no! No fight! I fell! Off my bike!”

From the floor, Tanaka-san laughed, but Sugawara-san looked as unconvinced as Kageyama felt. Maybe it was their setter instinct that saw something off about Hinata.

“Yachi was there,” Hinata said, gesturing wildly to the first year girl sitting on the bench. She jumped at the sudden mention of her name, nearly tipping off her seat. “I fell off my bike. Right, Yachi?” Hinata gave her a very meaningful look that did not help his case or make him any less suspicious.

Yachi looked back and forth between Kageyama, Sugawara-san, and Hinata like she very much did not want to be included in the conversation.

“Right, Yachi?” Hinata said again.

“R-r-right!”

If Kageyama was convinced before, he was definitely not convinced now. And judging by Sugawara-san’s face, the third-year was just as doubtful.

“Right, gather up.” Coach Ukai called from across the gym. Hinata took the chance to slip away again.

Kageyama exchanged glances with Sugawara-san.

“Do you know…?” The third-year tilted his head towards Hinata’s direction, trailing off.

Kageyama shook his head.

“Hmm.” Sugawara-san said, hesitantly. “Let’s go join the team.”

He turned away. Kageyama followed the older boy to where the others were already gathering.

Everyone was here. Takeda-sensei was standing beside the Coach with a supportive smile, clipboard clutched in hands. Standing behind them was Shimizu-san, who was ignoring Tanaka-san’s and Nishinoya-san’s best effort to get her to notice their biceps. The other three second years were shaking their heads at the stupidity of those two. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were standing in their own group just outside the circle. And the third years were standing together, listening to Sugawara-san whisper something. Kageyama watched Azumane-san sneak very obvious glances at Hinata who was talking animatedly to Yachi.

“Hinata, glad to see you’re doing better,” Coach Ukai said once the team had gathered.

_So the coach knew about the ‘fall’ already._ Kageyama thought. He filed that information away for later.

“I think you should take it easy today— “

“Wha? Coach, I’m fine!” Hinata complained.

Coach Ukai sighed, “As I was saying, I think you should take it easy today so you and Kageyama can practice your quick on court two, but you need to stop if it’s hurting too much.”

“It’s not hurting at all!”

Kageyama snorted. If it didn’t hurt then the idiot wouldn’t have been clutching his stomach after running like he was going to hurl.

Coach Ukai gave Hinata an unimpressed look and turned to Kageyama, “I’m trusting you to stop him before he goes too far.”Kageyama blinked, the word _trust_ ringing in his ear. “Yes, sir!”

“The rest of you are playing a five on five on court one. Sawamura, divide the team. It’s first to 21 then switch the teams again.”

“Yes, sir!”

Kageyama followed Hinata to the second court as Sawamura-san began to divide up the teams. The blue volleyball cart was already set up by the net and Yachi ran over to pick up the first ball.

“I’m sending back tosses to the right first,” Kageyama said. Back tosses were the hardest to get perfect. Not only did he have to aim the ball at Hinata’s hand, he’d have to do it without looking at where Hinata was jumping. It was pure instinct training.

Hinata nodded, excitement gleaming in his eyes as he backed up to prepare for a jump. The disappointment from not being able to play in the practice game already gone from his mind.

Kageyama faced Yachi and gave her a nod. He took in a breath as Yachi sent over the first ball. From the side he could hear Hinata’s sneakers squeak on the gym floor.

Look. The ball arched up high, coming down perfectly over him.

Contact. Kageyama was more than familiar with the way the ball pressed down on his fingertips.

There was one more loud squeak, this time directly behind him, and then nothing. Exactly what Kageyama was looking for.

Now! Kageyama pushed and the world turned upside down as he leaned back with it. He saw Hinata’s back highlighted from the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, already swinging his right arm forward to meet the approaching ball. Kageyama doesn’t have to look to know his eyes are closed. And then he...missed?

Kageyama watched the ball soar just out of Hinata’s reach. The other boy landed, looking at his hand in confusion.

Kageyama cursed. He’d set it too far. “Let’s do it again.”

Hinata nodded, resetting his position.

Kageyama took in another deep breath.

Look. The ball arched up high. He watched it fall down in slow motion.

Contact. It touched down exactly on his fingertips. Kageyama listened for the tell-tale squeak of Hinata’s lift off.

Now! The world turned upside down again as Kageyama pushed the ball back. Hinata’s right hand rushed down to meet...empty air. The ball fell with Hinata, landing just a meter before him.

Kageyama cursed again. Too short this time. “Again.”

The ball flew up, but it was different than before. It wasn’t going to make it to his position.

“I’m sorry!” Yachi yelled.

Kageyama moved forward, “I got it!”

Look. Contact. Now!

_Slam._ The ball hit the ground on the other side of the net.

“Yes!” Hinata cheered, arms pumping in the air. Kageyama, himself, couldn’t stop the grin slowly spreading on his face.

“One more.”

This time, Kageyama nodded at the middle blocker’s call.

Look. Contact. Now! _Slam._

They fell into an easy rhythm. Kageyama could hear the sounds of yelling and feet slamming on the other court where the practice game was also picking up.

Look. Contact. Now! _Slam._

“Let’s go the other way.” Kageyama finally said, turning around. He hadn’t broken a sweat yet, but, unsurprisingly, Hinata looked winded.

“Are you doing okay, Hinata?” Yachi asked as she passed, pushing the cart to the other side.

Hinata made a sound that was probably trying to reassure the first-year, but she looked anything but reassured. Though Kageyama had to admit, Yachi barely ever looked assured. On the other court someone yelled, “Alright!"

“Do you need to stop?” Kageyama asked seriously. The coach was _trusting_ him, after all, to make sure Hinata didn’t play if he was really hurting.

That made the shorter boy straighten up. His face was set with determination. He backed up into position. “No way. Send me another one.”

Kageyama’s gut twinged, but he turned around anyways, signaling for Yachi to throw him a ball.

Look. Contact. Now!

From this side, Kageyama could see that Hinata’s eyes were closed, hand swinging without seeing like he trusted that Kageyama would give him the ball no matter what. But rather than finding it relieving, the intense weight always made Kageyama shiver. It’s what Kageyama wanted since middle school after all, to set himself apart from his oppressive _king of the court_ title.

But Hinata gave it so freely that the setter felt like it could disappear just as freely and that— though he would always deny it— scared him just a little.

But his gut was pulling at him to stop looking at his eyes and look at something else. His hand? No, despite the bandaids, Hinata’s hand was perfectly aligned with the ball. _Slam._

“One more!” Hinata said, backing up for the next jump. There was an unnatural stiffness in his movements, but his face didn’t look pained.

Look. Contact. Now!

Height? Maybe Hinata wasn’t jumping as high, but no, it’s not the shortest he’s ever jumped. Hinata’s stamina wasn’t infinite and even he has his off days. But this pull had to be for something else.

“One more!”

Look. Contact. Now!

Hinata jumped, hair flying, shirt riding up. Finally, Kageyama’s eyes narrowed in on the splotchy dark discoloration peeking out starkly under the white gym shirt. _What is that?_

“One more!”

Look. Contact. Now!

There it was again. A blue-black bruise, darker and rounder on one end than the other end. Too long to be a volleyball. It looked like something had slammed into it and then followed through with the rest of the length. Maybe the handlebars of his bike? But Kageyama’s fallen off his bike as a kid more times than he’d like to admit and he knows that handlebars don’t look _that_.

Yachi threw him the next ball, but instead of setting it, Kageyama caught it between his hands. His head spun as he tried to put the details together.

One. Scrapes, bandaids, bruises. Hinata said it was from falling but based on his and Yachi’s general weirdness, it was definitely not from falling.

Two. Coach Ukai was involved somehow. It would make sense that if Hinata fell and Yachi was with him, the two of them would go to Coach Ukai’s store to buy band aids. It _was_ on the way to Hinata’s house. But Kageyama’s gut kept telling him it wasn’t simply a fall.

Three. Sugawara-san was also suspicious and so were the rest of the third years, like they already knew something Kageyama didn’t. But what was it?

“I think we should take a break,” Kageyama said. Yachi nodded furiously.

“What?” Hinata complained, “I’m not even tired yet.” But Kageyama could see the suppressed wince as he stepped forward and he was struggling to keep his breaths even.

Kageyama ignored him and pointed at his stomach, “How’d you get that?”

“Um, my shirt?” Hinata answered. He looked confused like he genuinely didn’t know what Kageyama meant.

“No, dumbass. Under your shirt.”

The confused look was gone and a nervous smile made its way onto Hinata's face, “My stomach?”

Kageyama gritted his teeth. The idiot was avoiding his question now. He’d just have to take matters into his one hands. Kageyama reached forward, but Hinata jerked back, hands crossed protectively in front of him.

“It’s fine! I said I fell, remember?”

Kageyama reached out again, but Hinata just twisted out of the way. “Then why are you being so weird about it?” 

“Why are _you_ being weird about it?”

“Stop avoiding the question!” 

Kageyama sprung forward and his hand closed tightly on the fabric, but Hinata had an equally tight grip on the bottom of the shirt, pulling it down.

“Stop! You’re stretching my shirt!”

“Well, I wouldn’t be stretching your shirt if you just-“

“Hinata got beat up yesterday by a bunch of upperclassmen.” Yachi blurted out.

“Yachi!” Hinata cried. Kageyama dropped his fistful of shirt.

“A-and I think they’ve been bothering him for a while,” Yachi said. Words rolled out of her mouth like when you finally uncovered an instant ramen cup and the steam came blowing out. “I heard them call him names and p-push him around in the halls.”

Hinata jumped forward and covered the girl’s mouth with his hands, but the damage was done. Pieces slid into the empty gaps in Kageyama’s head. _Bullies._ Hinata was being bullied.

“It’s not that bad,” Hinata said. “I-I just don’t get along well with some second years.”

Kageyama knew all about not getting along with upperclassmen. His long-lasting feud with Oikawa-san was proof of this. He knew what it meant to be ridiculed and mocked. At one point, he’d even sparked something in the normally collected and even-tempered setter that made him almost get physical. He remembered the uncharacteristic spark of frustration and anger in the older boy’s eyes as he lashed out.

“How long?” Kageyama asked, his voice sounded loud and distant for some reason.

“Keep your voice down,” Hinata hissed, glancing over at the other court, “I-I don’t know? Since school started? They usually just make fun of my height and I hear worse things from you and Tsukishima, I promise! I can handle it.”

_Then what’s that?_ Kagaeyama wanted to ask. The fading bruises on Hinata’s arms and legs, the massive _fist-shaped_ one hidden under his shirt, the way he constantly looked over his shoulder in the halls like a prey animal. Iwazumi-san had been the one to stop Oikawa-san from going too far, but who was stopping these bullies? Because no matter what Kageyama used to tell himself in middle school, no matter what Hinata was trying to tell him now, these were bullies, plain and simple.

“We should tell an adult. Or Sawamura-san.” The captain was level-headed. He always knew what to say or do.

“No!” Hinata said immediately.

Kageyama frowned. “Why? Do you not trust him or something?” 

He paused as a thought popped into his head, “Are you embarrassed?”

“I—” Hinata started. His eyes dropped down to the ground. “Fine, it’s a little embarrassing, okay? They’re just bigger and stronger, but I’m not some baby. I can handle some mean words or some shoves. I have to be bigger than that don’t I?”

“Hinata, it’s not embarra—“

“Look,” Hinata interrupted Yachi, “Keep this to yourselves. I’m trusting you guys with this. They’ll probably get bored in a couple weeks or once summer break starts, but if I get in trouble for fighting with them _now_ I might get banned from practice like Noya-san, or even from the prelims! I can’t afford that.”

There it was again. The word _trust_. Kageyama clenched his fingers. He looked over to where Coach Ukai was pointing something out on his clipboard to Takeda-sensei. What Hinata said did make sense though, Kageyama didn’t think Karasuno had a chance at nationals if they didn’t have their decoy and freak quick.

His mind wavered between the two choices: betray Hinata and tell someone, or believe in Hinata and stay quiet.

Betray him and possibly destroy the delicate relationship— friendship, almost?—between them that was only just beginning to solidify? Believe him and let the upperclassmen get away with walking all over him for a few more weeks?

It all came down to which choice would hurt the other boy less. 

“Please.” He turned back. Hinata was looking at him now, face serious, but there was desperation in his eyes.

Kageyama closed his own eyes and nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! 22 comments! It was really nice to respond to everyone and every time I got that little notification in my email it really made me jump on my computer and write 100 more words. Thanks for all the feedback and encouragement! Don't be intimidated to leave some critique! Kageyama was really interesting to write! I hope it wasnt too awkward though using his last name instead of his first...I'm a little confused on which name to use.


	4. Tsukishima & Yamaguchi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a little more heated as fire is added to the flames.

The clap across Tsukishima’s shoulders nearly sent him sprawling.

“Win us nationals!” The upperclassman— Tsukishima is pretty sure he’s never talked to this boy before today— flashed him a smile.

Tsukishima tilted his head and smiled politely, “We’ll do our best.”

That seemed to please the older boy because he laughed and patted Tsukishima’s shoulder again (despite the first year being a whole head taller than him), walking away. 

The smile immediately dropped off Tsukishima’s face and he pushed up his glasses. His brother had warned him this would happen. In fact, his exact words (after the match he was _not_ supposed to be watching) had been _“Kei, I’m telling you, they’re all going to act like your best friend until you lose. Then they become your worst enemy.”_

Then the older Tsukishima had thrown his arms around his shoulder, crowing gleefully at the fact that his alma mater had been the one to kill Shiratorizawa’s winning streak. That his _own younger brother_ had been the one to block the number one ace’s insane left-hand spike.

Tsukishima had scoffed at that. It was only one block in the entire 90 minute game. He couldn’t even do it again. 

Daichi-san had been receiving non-stop, saving all their backsides. Nishinoya-san had been digging up near impossible balls the entire time. Sugawara-san’s cunning plays nearly won them a set. And Tsukishima might be a little proud, but he wasn’t stupid. Despite both being completely irritating, the team would not have been even close to a point without the king’s pinpoint setting and genius quick thinking or the shrimp’s insane stamina and decoy jumps. And that’s not even talking about Karasuno’s most sharpened weapon, their freak quick. Playing with all of them was like playing in a hurricane and Tsukishima was right in the eye.

Which is why it was so ridiculous that everyone, including his brother, had titled him as MVP.

But not as ridiculous as how excited the student body had been all day about going to nationals.

Just like his brother said, everyone was only going to be quickly and bitterly disappointed when Karasuno inevitably lost. In fact, Tsukishima truly believed that Karasuno would be lucky to pass even the first round. (At least, that’s what he told himself to push down on the spark of pride that flared up every time someone mentioned _volleyball_ ).

Yamaguchi’s arm brushed against his shoulder as the shorter boy waved at a group of first year girls passing by who were all very noticeably whispering and pointing at them. One of the girls waved back shyly, causing the group to fall into another wave of whispering and giggling.

“It’s like we’re celebrities now or something,” Yamaguchi said beside him, glancing behind him to make sure he was out of earshot. He sounded a little awestruck.

Tsukishima shrugged, tucking a hand into his pocket. “They’ll forget about it after a day or two.”

Another student that Tsukishima had also never talked to before called out a congratulations from across the hall as they passed. “You think so?” Yamaguchi said distractedly as they both nodded politely.

Tsukishima hummed and opened his mouth to repeat Akiteru’s words, but paused at the sound of a very familiar voice coming from the classroom door up ahead.

“-holding nationals?

“Tokyo Metropolitan Gym!”

“That’s so cool!”

Tsukishima gave Yamaguchi a side glance and the both of them looked into the classroom. Tsukishima sighed as he took in Hinata sitting at his desk, surrounded by his classmates. It was obvious they were talking about volleyball by the way the annoying shrimp was ecstatically blabbering, hands waving. Tsukishima could hear Yamaguchi trying to suppress a laugh at the sight of the handful of students hanging on to each word.

“Looks like the idiot’s got a huge head now.” Tsukishima said, deadpan. Hinata was going to be insufferable at practice if it kept going like this. Yamaguchi snickered.

“Are you going, too, Hinata?” Tsukishima heard a girl ask as he and Yamaguchi started walking again. Lunch break was ending soon and Tsukishima did not want to spend it listening to chibi-chan getting his ego stroked.

“Of course I am!”

“He’s in charge of holding the player’s belongings, and like running errands and doing their laundry.” A boy’s voice rang clearly in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Ah, so he’s an errand boy for the scary people.”

Holding? Errands? _Laundry?_

Did he just hear that right?

Tsukishima made eye contact with Yamaguchi, eyebrows raised, and both of them immediately broke into snorting laughter as they heard Hinata loudly try to deny it. Oh, this was too good. This was prime bullying material. Tsukishima couldn’t wait to hold _this_ over his head later.

“Laundry boy,” Yamaguchi whispered, a disbelieving grin spread across his face. Hinata’s protest getting more distant behind them as they rounded the corner. Tsukishima really wished he could’ve seen Hinata’s face.

Tsukishima opened his mouth to say another thing at Hinata’s expense— something along the lines of _Karasuno’s official waterboy_ — when three boys rushed around the corner, laughing to each other as they pushed in between him and Yamaguchi without a glance. Tsukishima stumbled back a little, his height helped him stay upright. Yamaguchi was not so lucky. He was sitting on the ground.

“Sugiyama-san! Teshim— No running in the halls!” A middle-aged teacher rounded the far corner, panting. It was apparent he was a little more than slightly out of shape. “Are you listening to me?”

Tsukishima looked behind him, but the other boys were out of sight and most definitely not listening. They’d looked like delinquents with their untucked shirts and unruly loudness. He wasn’t surprised that they were running from a teacher. Tsukishima turned back to help Yamaguchi up.

Yamaguchi grabbed his hand and pulled himself off the ground, wincing. “Rude. I think those were the same second-years that slammed into me a while ago when I was with Hinata.”

“They should really watch where they’re going,” Tsukishima said.

“And you two! Get to class! You’ve got two minutes left.” Tsukishima and Yamaguchi turned to the teacher who had stopped in the middle of the hall, bent over and still catching his breath. “I swear students these days think they can do whatever they want.”

“Ah, sorry, sir,” Tsukishima bowed, ignoring the older man’s grumbling. Yamaguchi followed his lead.

“Wait,” The man was still panting slightly, dabbing at his bald head with a handkerchief he’d retrieved from his breast pocket. His tone had lightened considerably, “Tsukishima-kun isn’t it? I used to teach your brother!”

The man laughed shortly and Tsukishima recognized him as Oka-sensei, Akiteru’s former homeroom teacher. Someone who Akiteru described with rolling eyes as _a strict grader who thinks puns are the pinnacle of humour. Listen to this one he told us today—_

“By the way, congratulations on getting to nationals.” Oka-sensei paused, straightening up, eyebrows waggling, “I heard volleyball is a hard sport because you always serve, but you can never eat.” He slapped his knees, guffawing.

Tsukishima inwardly groaned.

* * *

“Looks like we lost the fat old geezer. He really thought he could catch a couple of athletes?” Sugiyama looked behind him, slowing down. “Maybe this will do his legs some good.”

The other two cackled behind him.

“-don’t believe me? I won the last point in the game!”

Sugiyama skidded to a halt before the first year classroom’s door.

“Wow, did you really?” A girl asked in amazement. Sugiyama nearly gagged as he peeked into the room.

“I sure did! I jumped like _this_ high and went _wa-bam!_ ” The owner of the voice was preening like a proud bird.

“No way _you_ can jump higher than a net,” One of the other first year boys said in disbelief.

“Oh yeah?”

Teshima clicked his tongue against his teeth besides Sugiyama as the three of them watched the tiny orange twig jump to show off to his peers. “Looks like we’re going to have to teach another lesson in humility.”

Sugiyama just smiled. “That’s our job as his upperclassmen isn’t it?”

Daisuke chuckled.

Tsukishima absentmindedly gathered his textbooks into his school bag.

* * *

The warm afternoon light streaming in from the window beside him casted shadows across his desk. Outside, Tsukishima could see students already heading out, probably to the local library or nearby academy. A few weeks ago, he’d always thought about the benefits of joining them instead of going to volleyball club. It was logical, of course. With his average skill set it wasn’t like he had a chance to go pro like Kageyama or Ushiwaka. Volleyball wasn’t even fun to him.

Yesterday’s event may have changed his mind just a little bit.

Tsukishima looked over a few rows to Yamaguchi’s seat, but his friend was already by the door. In fact, most of the seats were already empty.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi laughed light-heartedly as Tsukishima came over, “You’re not distracted by thinking about the match are you?”

Sometimes Tsukishima wished Yamaguchi didn’t know him so well.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi said, smiling.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and pulled his headphones out of his bag.

“Can you give me a minute? I wanted to ask sensei about the project.” Yamaguchi said before Tsukishima could pull the headphones over his ears. Tsukishima nodded as he switched on his music. It wasn’t like they were in a rush to go anywhere. Coach Ukai had given them the day off as a reward for winning the match. Something Hinata and Kageyama had been really upset about, of course. There was something seriously wrong with the two of them.

Tsukishima watched Yamaguchi by the door, slowly drifting off to the song he had heard Niichan blast in his room. Not that Tsukishima would ever let Akiteru know that he actually approved of one of his songs. The older Tsukishima would never stop recommending songs if he knew.

Yamaguchi finally turned around and gave him a thumbs up. Tsukishima shouldered his back pack up higher as he walked right behind Yamaguchi out the door, not bothering to take off his headphones. As they walked to the shoe locker room at the school entrance, Tsukishima could see a few students still chatting, friends catching up with friends from a different class, students asking teachers questions in the doorways, groups walking to their clubs together. How they still had the social battery for it after 7 hours of school? Who knows.

Tsukishima was just grateful that Yamaguchi never minded walking quietly.

Yamaguchi stopped suddenly at the entryway to the lockers, squatting down to pick up something. The shorter boy offered it to him with a puzzled look on his face. It was a school shoe. Not unlike the ones they were wearing, but it was a little more scuffed and only for the left foot.

Weird of it to just be lying this far from the locker room without a pair.

“We can leave it by the front door in case whoever it is comes back for it.” Tsukishima suggested, his voice a little warbled over the music.

Yamaguchi nodded, holding the dirty shoe in front of him gingerly with his two fingers.

The room looked empty. Rows of lockers peaked out behind the first set on both sides of the entryway and the smell of rubber soles and fresh dirt rubbed at Tsukishima’s nose. It didn’t smell quite as bad as the volleyball club room though. Certain boys— cough Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san cough— did not believe in washing clothes as much as he did and Hinata, who looked up to the upperclassmen on everything (much to their delight), seemed to be picking up on this.

Tsukishima fiddled with the knob on his assigned locker and was not surprised when he found two folded notes which must have been slipped through the cracks of the small door. He held them up to Yamaguchi kneeling in front of his locker further down.

Yamaguchi wiggled his eyebrows teasingly and held up one himself.

Shaking his head with a _tsk_ , Tsukishima pulled out his outside shoes, replacing them with his school ones. He shut the door firmly. The wall of lockers seemed to shake. Huh. That was weird. He didn’t think he closed it that tightly.

The lockers seemed to rattle slightly again. Tsukishima realized he could faintly hear loud voices over his music. He pulled his headphones down, looking over at Yamaguchi. The voices were louder, laughter echoed off the walls of metal.

It was coming from the far side of the room. Yamaguchi was already moving. His locker still opened and he only had one shoe on. Tsukishima followed him only to nearly trip over another wayward shoe, this time for the right foot. It looked like it from the same pair as the other one.

“Hey!” Yamaguchi’s voice was assertive and nervous in a way Tsukishima had rarely ever heard before. “Get away from him.”

Quickly rounding the rows of lockers, Tsukishima stopped behind Yamaguchi who was standing with his back to him, drawn up taunt like a net. In front of him, were three boys. The same ones that ran into Yamaguchi and him this morning.

Tsukishima could get a much clearer look at them now. There was a spikey haired boy almost like Kuroo-san, but shorter, another with long messy hair and a hunch, and a bigger boy with a face like one of those American pugs. And in the midst of it all, completely surrounded, pressed up against the lockers, was one Hinata Shouyou without any shoes.

* * *

Hinata knew all the attention he was getting was too good to be free. 

“You’ve really been bragging to your classmates, eh?” Sugi said, smiling, yet a chill went up Hinata’s spine. Hinata backed up against the lockers, he could feel the cold ground through his socked feet. They had taken his shoes and flung each in different directions. Hinata was glad they hadn’t decided to throw him instead...at least not yet.

“We were just talking about how _young_ and _inexperienced_ you are,” Sugi said. Hinata didn’t dare mention that they were only a grade above his. “Naïve even. There’s no way for you to know how to keep all this _praise_ from getting into your small little head.” 

Hinata flinched as the older boy leaned over to ruffle his head. Not for the first time, Hinata wished he could physically stop them from _touching_ him. If he was tall like Aone-san, they wouldn’t even be able to reach the top of his head.

“So of course,” Sugi continued, slowly and calmly, like a shark circling a stranded seagull. He gestured at the other boys beside him. “We, as your upperclassman, want to teach you a very valuable lesson on humility and _knowing your place._ ” 

“I’m sorry! I—I actually have to go home and...clean some errands,” Hinata was stumbling over his words while his brain tried to find some way out of this, “I mean run some errands! I really have to—”

A meaty hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Hinata barely contained a yelp.

Teshima took up nearly all of his vision as he towered over Hinata. “Do you think you’re better than everyone else? Do you think you’re better than _us_?”

Hinata wanted to melt into the floor. “No! Really I’m just—“

Teshima’s hand bunched a fistful of Hinata’s shirt right above his collarbone, yanking it up and stopping him mid-sentence. Both of his feet were still on the ground, but the shirt collar was tight around his neck. He could feel the pressure as he gulped and he was vaguely reminded of a dog being held by the scruff.

“Did we say you could talk?”

The other boy, Hinata still didn’t know his name yet despite them bullyin— no, pestering him for months, laughed.

Sugi smiled with a little too much teeth and not a bit of friendliness. “I feel sorry for the upperclassmen that have to deal with arrogant annoying little upstarts.”

Teshima gave him a shake. “You really think you can play with them?” He sneered. “I’ve met sixth graders taller than you. “

“Sit on the bench like a good kouhai and stop wasting space for those who’ve played longer.”

Hinata didn’t say anything, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his knuckles as his eyes shook. This was not the time to piss them off. It had been repeatedly proven that he would not win in a 3-v-1 fight.

“Gah. You’re such a freak.”

His head rammed back against the locker. Hinata cried out at the sudden force and his hands jumped up to grasp at the hand around his shirt collar.

Teshima snorted and pulled Hinata higher onto his toes, his ears ringing.

“Your senpai really must have the patiences of oaks trees. It’s really embarrassing, actually. Like they’re humoring an untrained puppy who really doesn’t know when to stop,” Sugi scoffed. “If you were on the baseball team, I would’ve decked you on the first day. Really teach your place in society.”

The older boy glanced down at him, “Or maybe your senpai are just useless pushovers.”

Oh. Hinata decidedly did _not_ like that. There was a sudden spark of something—defiance—in his eyes, cold and sharp. He may be a shrimpy coward, but there was no way he was going to let them diss his teammates. 

“Don’t talk about them like that,” Hinata said, his voice was low, “They’re twice the athletes you’ll ever be.”

“Hah?” Teshima leaned in, Hinata could smell old soba on his breath. “What did you say?”

“I said—“

Fingers dug harshly into his hair and Hinata’s head slammed in the locker again. He gasped as his vision went dizzy.

His eyes tried to focus on the boys in front of him, but there were suddenly five or six of them. He couldn’t tell; they were blurring together. Someone was saying something.

The fingers in his hair tightened again and Hinata didn’t even wince. They were foreign and rough and he just wanted them _out_ . _Get them out—_

_“_ Hey! Get away from him.”

Behind the wall of Teshimas and Sugis and...that other boy, was a tall blonde blur and a shorter dark haired one. Even in his state, Hinata knew right away that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had arrived to witness his very embarrassing situation.

They were speaking, but Hinata’s brain was a little too shaken to put full sentences together.

“Oh I know you two. You’re the other...from—volleyball team.”

“Here to also learn a little lesson—ty?”

Hinata squeezed his eyes closed tight enough that his ears rumbled. Blinking open his eyes, there were finally five people rather than eight—Yamaguchi frowning and tense with Tsukishima right behind him—and the heated words they were saying became more coherent.

“—pick on one first year. How lame.”

“Hah?”

Hinata flinched. He couldn’t tell what the tall boy was thinking due to the sunlight reflecting off his glasses, making his expression unreadable. But his tone sounded bored and disinterested, almost mocking.

The fist in his hair tightened and Hinata missed the next exchange bracing himself to be slammed back again. At this rate, he was going to get a concussion and really really get into some trouble.

Teshima growled something at the other two first years, his voice deep and aggressive. So aggressive that Hinata’s head forcibly swayed back and forth in his grip.

“S-stop.” Hinata said. Even to him, it sounded weak and quiet. His cheeks flushed.

“Yamaguchi, get a teacher.”

Sugi looked back at Hinata, scowling. “It’s okay. I think our teaching is done for today anyways.”

Teshima made a sharp _tch_ sound. And before he knew, Hinata was thrown forward.

“Guh—!” Hinata stumbled on his feet, arms waving, straight into a warm body who immediately gripped onto both his arms to steady him.

Hinata glanced up into the nervous brown eyes of Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“Okay, Hinata?” Yamaguchi asked in a quiet voice. Hinata didn’t trust himself to speak, nodding instead. Yamaguchi let go of his arms and Hinata shuffled into the space between him and Tsukishima. He didn’t dare look up into the other middle blocker’s face.

“ _Kuso._ ” Teshima spit as they passed one by one starting with The Other Boy who made a face before slinking out like a scolded ferret. Sugi didn’t say anything except stare Hinata down as he walked by.

Hinata wasn’t proud to admit that he scooted behind Yamaguchi who puffed up a little like a bird defending another with its wings.

Sugi’s gaze turned to Tsukishima who coolly pushed up his glasses and gave a short—and definitely passive aggressive—bow.

“Kkh.” The older boy slid his thumbs into his pocket and turned the locker corner like a hawk who decided his meal was no longer worth it.

  
  
  


Of course Hinata made some enemies for bragging. Tsukishima knew people would be bitter after they lose, he just forgot that some people would be jealous if they win, especially other sports clubs.

* * *

“A lesson?” Yamaguchi repeated disbelievingly. Tsukishima could hear the scowl in his tone.

Tsukishima tilted his head away from the scene with disdain, “Three second years just to pick on one first year. How lame.”

“Hah?” The spiky haired boy looked like he couldn’t believe that the first year had the gall to insult him.

“Yamaguchi can you imagine blaming some else for being bad athletes. Obviously the remedy for that would be to spend my time at practice rather than beating up kids just to secure my fragile ego.” Tsukishima said in the distinctly mocking-polite tone that he knew got on people’s nerves perfectly like nothing else. He’s had plenty of practice ticking up Kageyama with it. It was almost like entertainment to him at this point.

Tsukishima could see the scrawny boy get nervous and Pugface looked like he was going to explode as Yamaguchi theatrically covered a fake snicker with his hand.

“Maybe I’d be at nationals by then,” Tsukishima continued, dismissively. “Oh wait.”

“You think you’re funny?” Pugface growled in the back. Tsukishima’s eyes drew to the way one of his hands were fisted in the fabric of Hinata’s white school button up, hoisting him up to balance on his tiptoes. The other was buried in his hair and shaking it back and forth to emphasize his words. “You think you can take us on?”

And Hinata himself—

“S-stop.”

His voice was almost pleading and Tsukishima could see him blinking like he was trying to focus his eyes and the shaking wasn’t helping. This was no longer entertaining.

“Yamaguchi, get a teacher.”

Scrawny in the corner moved as if to stop Yamaguchi from leaving and Tsukishima had full intention of stopping _him_ if he got even within a meter.

But Spiky held up a hand to stop him. He glanced back at Hinata, “It’s okay. I think our teaching is done for today anyways.”

Pugface looked equally displeased—and twice as ugly, and he suddenly threw Hinata forward.

In the corner of his eyes, Tsukishima saw Yamaguchi steady Hinata before he could fall on his face, whispering reassuringly.

Tsukishima didn’t move as he watched Scrawny slink out first followed by Pugface, who spit a word that any other hothead on the team would have responded with equal fire, but Tsukishima knew there was nothing worse than an insult that bounces off as harmless as a rubber ball against a government building.

Besides, he’s heard worse from his brother about other volleyball players and Tanaka-san sure does give his fair share when he thinks Sawamura-san wasn’t listening.

Finally, the last one, the one who had a lot of unnecessary things to say, tried to stare him down, but it was rather hard to feel intimidated given that Tsukishima had half a head over him. 

Pushing up his glasses, he gave a short bow that said exactly how much respect Tsukishima thought he deserved just for being his upperclassman. By the time he lifted his head, they were all gone.

There was silence in the room as the three first years listened to the retreating footsteps echo across the floors.

Yamaguchi’s shaky laugh broke the silence, “I’d never thought I’d ever stand up to bullies.”

Belatedly, Tsukishima remembered the circumstances that brought him and Yamaguchi together. Though with the new confidence Yamaguchi exerted recently, it was hard to believe he had ever let anyone get him down.

“I’ll get his shoes,” Yamaguchi said jogging around the corner, leaving him alone with Hinata.

“My head,” Hinata groaned suddenly, rubbing the back of his skull as if he was only now feeling it.

Tsukishima remembered the lockers shaking two separate times and had a sinking suspicion that he knew exactly what caused it.

He reached out, ignoring Hinata’s light flinch, and took the orange head in both hands, tilting it down to examine closer.

“Uh, Tsukishima?”

His thumbs prodded at the back of Hinata’s head. The shorter boy hissed as Tsukishima’s thumbs hit a spot at the base of his head where it met the top of his neck.

Tsukishima pressed it again lightly, immediately stopping when Hinata hissed in pain again.

“Tsukishima!” Hinata was squirming now. Tsukishima released him, but didn’t step back.

“From a scale from one to ten how bad is the pain?”

Hinata looked at him weird. “Um, three, I guess, but it’s going dow—“

“Did you black out? How’s your vision?”

“N-no. And it’s fine now,” Hinata said, backing up defensively. “What’s with the questions?”

“I’m checking you for a concussion.” Tsukishima answered flatly before continuing in an equally flat tone. “Do you remember what happened?”

Hinata fell quiet.

“Do you remember what happened?” Tsukishima repeated.

Yamaguchi rounded the corner with the discarded shoes they had found earlier, slowing to a stop as he probably sensed the tension.

In his life, he’s seen three concussions. Two of which were his brother who only ended up in the ER for one of them. They’d happen at his games which Tsukishima was never at, but he’d seen the recovery period and his brother’s frustration at not being able to practice volleyball. The other time, Tsukishima had witnessed it first hand. One of his middle school teammates had learned what it was like for their head to meet the floor...the hard way. Tsukishima didn’t think he could forget what that sounded like even if he tried.

Tsukishima pinched his nose. “Hinata, you may have zero medical knowledge, but bad memory is the number one sign of a serious concus—“

“I remember,” Hinata snapped. His cheeks were flushed and his chin dipped down. He was embarrassed.

But Tsukishima didn’t really care, he had to make sure the idiot wasn’t hiding a concussion, “Mind walking us through it?”

Hinata looked mutinous.

“C’mon Hinata,” Yamaguchi said gently, handing him his shoes, “We just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

Hinata turned to the wall of lockers on his right and started opening a locker. Tsukishima could feel a headache building in his own temples. If this goes on any longer, he would just march Hinata straight to the school medic and wash his hands of him.

“They caught me, shoved me against the lockers a couple times,” Hinata said finally. He was talking into his locker. He slid out his own outdoors shoes and replaced them with his recovered school ones, “then you two showed up and scared them off.”

“Thanks by the way,” Hinata said quietly, tying up his laces. “And thanks, I guess, for making sure I don’t have a concussion.”

The sincere vulnerability made Tsukishima uncomfortable.

Tsukishima turned away, pushing up his glasses, “I guess you're not so tough off the court, are you?”

“Hey!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting so long! The journey's almost over and I want to thank you all for the nice comments. I've never gotten this many comments before and they've really helped me to keep pushing myself to write!
> 
> Like always, I would love to hear from y'all some writer tips and tricks and things you've seen either in this story or in other stories that either bug you or make you go :0!!!!


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